


the night starts here, forget your name, forget your fear

by Mikaeru



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #ItsStillBeautiful Fest, M/M, Pet Names, Pet Play, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 17:06:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7766152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikaeru/pseuds/Mikaeru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was now eating from Hannibal’s hand, grape and strawberries, kneeling at his feet. The collar was so heavy, he felt how tight it was around his throat every time he swallowed. (It wasn't really that tight, because Hannibal was a careful master, as much as he was with the harpsichord. Sometimes it was irritating, to think about himself as one of his properties; and sometimes it was so, oh, liberating, so easy.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	the night starts here, forget your name, forget your fear

**Author's Note:**

> as usual, English is not my first language, so if you see any mistake please let me know <3 it's my first attempt at pet play, I hope I didn't do a giant mess.

Will didn’t take off all his clothes, because he felt awkward, having Hannibal impeccably dressed and himself stark naked, even if Hannibal said it was part of the game. (he said that was a great waste, to cover that piece of art he thought Will's body was, that he would have felt every and each sensation way better, but Will didn't care; it was too much to handle.) He did take off his grey shirt, though, and he neatly folded it on a chair; that made him chuckle a little, because he was meant to be a puppy, so wasn't a part of the game that the shirt would be crumpled? But Hannibal had this annoying not diagnosed OCD (it was entertaining how much Hannibal was stubborn about admitting the truth, even a medical one) so Will was meant to be a very tidy and clean puppy.

He was now eating from Hannibal’s hand, grape and strawberries, kneelling at his feet. The collar was so heavy, he felt how tight it was around his throat every time he swallowed. (It wasn't really that tight, because Hannibal was a careful master, as much as he was with the harpsichord. Sometimes it was irritating, to think about himself as one of his properties; and sometimes it was so, _oh_ , liberating, so easy.)

He bit his fingers every now and then, in a playful way, when Hannibal got (pretended to be) distracted by something.

“What a demanding little thing you are, my pet,” he said in a sweet, low voice, when Will finished his fruit. Will licked the tips of his fingers. Hannibal scratched his right ear with his free hand. “Do you want to play outside? It’s a wonderful day, with a gentle sun, you would enjoy it very much.”

Will’s heart skipped a beat, even though he perfectly knew that Hannibal would never show him to the world, even in their own private garden. (rose bushes, a cherry tree, an herb garden) He shook his head a little, anxious eyes glued on his doctor. Hannibal ran his finger through his hair, scratching the back of his head. “Perhaps another day. Do you want to have a look around the house, pet?”

Will licked his hand again, and that was a yes. Hannibal hooked a leash to his collar, and he stared at Will, checking for his consent, and Will licked an yes again. They talked about it, of course, because Hannibal was a cold-blood serial killer and cannibal, and he sent Will to prison and made him think he was losing his mind and killed Abigail and almost open his head and was, in general, the poster boy for evilness, the Satan kind, but now he asked all the time for Will’s permission, every time; because now there was no need for manipulation (“A necessary evil, Will, you know it and you knew it.”) and violence, because now Will was his, he was the light of his life (like he said one night, when maybe he had drank a little too much, or he felt particularly sentimental; Will didn’t know, but it was... _something_ , to hear him talk like that) and all he wanted was to treat him as such.

“C’mon boy,” Hannibal said, pulling a little. Will followed him from the living room to their bedroom to the library to the kitchen, where they stopped, because Hannibal noticed that Will’s knees were beginning to hurt.

“Are you well, my darling?” he asked in a soft whisper. Will was, and he licked his wrist.

“Are you thirsty?” he asked as he began to fill a silver bowl, like one Will had for his dogs, but Will was almost certain that bowl wasn’t just silver painted. Will gave him a puzzled look, and then bit his wrist, and that was a no, because he wasn’t ready yet. Hannibal smiled at him, and set the bowl down in front of him. “Aren’t you thirsty, Will?”, he said again in a sweet tone.

“Rrrrr...”, Will growled, to his own surprise. He saw what it did to Hannibal, even when his expression didn’t change. He was learning to read him, and he was learning really well and really, really fast.

“Down, boy,” his voice was low, barely cracked.

“Rrrrrr...”, Will bared his teeth. Hannibal knelt down at his side, slipping two fingers under his collar. He wasn’t threatening, he did it to calm Will down, and it worked.

“I’m sorry, my darling,” Hannibal whispered. He stood up, he cupped his hands under the tap, collecting some water, and he offered it to Will. He stared at him for a couple of seconds; then he began to lap it, timidly, at first just with the tip of his tongue, then a little more like an actual dog. Hannibal smiled in the most sweet and proud way, it was a shame that Will wasn’t able to see it.

“Another sip?”

Will licked his palm, and Hannibal quenched him again, and again, and again. Will felt calm in this repetition, in the love that was radiating from Hannibal’s hands, skin, body. He can felt it into his veins.

He lightly bit Hannibal’s hand when he was satisfied. He smiled at him, and Hannibal sat down on one of the high chair, and Will put his head on his lap. He noted a small budge in Hannibal’s pants, and he anxiously chewed his lips. Hannibal caressed his mouth, smiling.

“You have nothing to worry about, my precious,” he cooed, “not now, not ever. You have to do just, and only, what you want to do. I don’t request anything else, my love.”

Will licked his wrist again, bit it lightly, resting his head on his thighs. He was about to say something, something that was similar to a confession, a secret, but he remembered he was just a puppy, a pet, so he stood up on his knees and licked Hannibal’s cheek, grinning a little. Hannibal laughed, and it was such a light music, like sugar, like a glass of red wine during a winter night, snow on the trees and silence between whispers. He felt at peace.


End file.
